


Healing Hands

by Distracted



Series: The Things That Heal Us [1]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distracted/pseuds/Distracted
Summary: Sylvie Brett is miserable and in pain. Matthew Casey finds a way to help. Fluff, really.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: The Things That Heal Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712512
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	Healing Hands

Healing Hands

Sylvie Brett was honestly, truly miserable. The bunk room was quiet and she was exhausted but she couldn't sleep. Another cramp hit her and she curled up, biting her lip, even the pressure from her waistband torturous. It eased a little, and she glanced at her watch, groaning. Two more hours until she could take some more painkillers. 

Please don't let Ambo get called out, she thought, honestly not sure she had the energy or will to move. 

"Sylvie?" Casey's voice startled her. He stopped at the foot of her bed, frowning down at her. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" 

"How did you know something was wrong?" She asked, hugging her pillow a little tighter as the cramps started to build again. It felt like someone had wrapped her organs in barbed wire and was trying to slowly pull them out through her spine. Ow ow ow, she thought and jumped when a warm hand touched her cheek. 

"Because you don't usually vanish off by yourself," he said, eyes darting over her body, clearly searching for an injury. "Be honest with me, Sylvie, what's going on?" The worry in his voice was clear and she sighed. 

"Cramps," she blurted, glad of the dim light that hopefully hid the blush on her cheeks. It was stupid and ridiculous to be embarrassed. He'd lived with women, even been married. He knew about periods. 

"Ah," he said, and patted her arm. "Be right back." 

She watched him walk off and hugged her pillow to her chest. _Great, now he thinks I'm a big baby who can't handle a few cramps._ The idea hurt more than she'd expected and she had to blink away tears. She closed her eyes, determined to get some sleep while she could. 

The bed dipped and she blinked, surprised to see him back. "Do you think I'm a sissy?" she asked before she could stop the words and he laughed. 

"Sylvie, if one of my organs decided to shed its lining I'd be in hospital, begging for the good drugs. No, I don't think you're a sissy." He shook the chemical heat pack, passing it to her. "Here. Needs a sec to warm up," he said, then hesitated. "Would you… can I…" He blew out a frustrated sigh and started again. "Hallie taught me a massage technique that helped her," he said, uncertainty plain on his face and spread his hands. "Would you…" He trailed off, clearly at a loss how to finish that sentence. 

She'd try anything if it would stop the pain. "Yes, please."

"Roll on your front," he said softly. "I got a relief medic in to cover the rest of the shift. Kidd will cover until they get here."

The rush of anger surprised her. "Oh so you think I'm a weak woman who can't do her job?" 

She felt him jerk back like he'd been slapped. "What? No. Tell me you're physically up to working right now and I'll cancel it." His hands flexed, and she realised that her reaction had hurt him. "If you're not up to working, you're not. I don't want anyone getting hurt because you're in pain and can't move fast enough," he adds. "I have to think about everyone's safety, you know." 

"Sorry. You're right. I'm not up to it. Sorry for being a jerk," she says. "Can we rewind to just before my inner bitch came out?" 

He huffs a laugh. "Roll on your front."

It feels strange, having him at her back, but not uncomfortable. "What are you going to do?" She asks, just as the warmth of his hands settled on her lower back. 

"Hallie used to get a spasm, here, and it really hurt her," he said and traced a line just above her hips. "There are pressure points, or something that relieve the spasm and it helps." 

His thumbs dig into the tight muscles just above her hips and she grunts a little. It's uncomfortable, but in a good way. His hands still. 

"Did that hurt?" he asks softly, eyes shaded with emotions she doesn't even know where to start unpicking. Hurting women is a trigger for him and she knows it has to do with his mom, but she's never pried too deeply. 

"Keep going, please?" she asks. "You didn't hurt me."

He nods once, like he's not quite sure that he believes her but his hands start moving again. It's a little uncomfortable at first, the tight muscles tense and sore under his careful hands, but the spasm eases after a few minutes and she yawns, suddenly exhausted. 

"Better?" He says, smiling. 

"Your hands are magic," she mumbles, then flushes once her brain catches up. "Shit. Sorry."

He laughs and flips the blanket over her. "Go to sleep, Sylvie," he says, traces of that laughter in his voice and she does.


End file.
